Posts Tagged ‘christmas’

This is probably the longest I’ve ever gone without blogging. Here is my litany of excuses…I mean, updates:

Aussie came to stay with her two little ones – Walnut and Travolta. Snort and Coconut were overjoyed to have their friends back, with the addition of a cute baby to fawn over. Since their departure, Walnut and Spiderman play a very big part in bedtime stories, by request. Aussie got sick, as did her kids. Before I realised just how sick she was, I ate some leftovers from a bowl she’d had. That is what Got Me Very Sick. Luckily neither of my kids fell prey.

The aforementioned Very Sick.

Those Christmas stockings. I’m not sure whether to use ‘fucking’ or ‘amazing’ as the adverb to describe them. I stayed up till 1:30 am on Christmas Eve morning so the kids could get them a day early and their splendor not lost amidst a haze of presents. You guys, they are beautiful. So beautiful that I would seriously have commissioned someone to make us stockings if I saw these as a sample. Don’t get any ideas, though. I’m not about to open a business. But they are perfect, exactly what I wanted, and handstitched to last a lifetime.

iPad. Since my sister gave me her hand-me-down iPad in the summer, blogging has taken a bit of a hit for me. Not only because of soul destroying games like Candy Crush Saga, but also because I write longest and best on a real keyboard.

Adventures – lots of them. New giant playgrounds, train rides with Santa, museum trips, and on and on and on.

Me. When TMD is home, literally all I want to do is lie in bed and read….if I can avoid Candy Crush Saga. I am seriously debating whether something is medically wrong with me, the amount of time I could just lie in bed and luxuriate. However, I am lax to take these wonderings seriously, because I think the only thing I could be diagnosed with is Parenting Young Children (PYC). I hear PYC is a well known and documented creator of exhaustion.

I’m sure I have more excuses tucked away here or there, but largely I’ve had a good few weeks. TMD has been home from work for an extended holiday break – we celebrate Christmas in a purely secular way, for those who wonder, and will probably celebrate Yule next year as well – and it’s been amazing having her home. She’s had a chance to dabble in our daily lives – trips to a cafe for shortbread, children ripping the house apart, etc. I wish we were independently wealthy so she could be here ALL THE TIME.

My other wish is a for a nice, reliable printer. We haven’t had one for a good long while, but as we get further into our home education journey, I realise just how useful one would be. I am also attracted to one that would print photos (though I suppose they all do, nowadays, ye whippersnappers) but only if that is actually cheaper than paying someone else to print them.

Have you all had a nice holiday? Lots of holiday angst…I mean, joy? I sincerely hope so. I know *I* had a great time hanging out with the relatives I just unfriended on facebook, namely because I clearly made my BIL very uncomfortable. I am sad about this. But as TMD says, all we need is an apology and we’re back in business.

In other news, my little sister is moving to Country B (!) possibly this month (!) and while she’ll be in the capitol, she’ll hopefully live on OUR side of it so she’ll be a mere two hours away. Very different from 7,000 miles away! She is a techie sort of gal, so we will be entering the land of more blogging, perhaps. If we aren’t constantly in the capital stalking Lady and her kids and visiting my sister! The kids’ schedule now involves classes of one sort or another on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, which is perhaps not ideal for visits. We also have a weekly home ed group on Thursdays that lasts all day, but that is totally optional and does not cost six million gazoombas per term.

And one more thing. Our new Wednesday activity is swimming, and we started this week. I don’t know what I expected, but it was not that my children were, in fact, adults. Three of the five kids in the class are totally new to swimming lessons, and so I expected some sort of water confidence build up. But no, lo and behold, we are preschoolers (or preunschoolers, in our case!!), and 3-4 year olds are hardcore. It was one teacher and assistant, no parents required. Swimming laps from the get go. LAPS. I know. They looked so grown up and awesome!

Snort and Coconut were fucking STARS. While I don’t much hold with giving automatic respect to someone just because they are an adult, I did explain that water can be dangerous, which is why you need a grown up helper. I explained their helper would be the swimming teacher, and they listened and followed instructions…and most importantly, just BEAMED the whole time. When they weren’t making their concentration faces, anyway. It couldn’t have gone better, especially as they are by far the youngest in the group, and I look forward to next week.

Coco did swallow a bit of water when she went under, and was not well pleased, so that may be a hiccup. But judging by the amount of imaginative play devoted to swimming lessons since Wednesday, I think we’re okay.

Just walked in the doors from our holiday. Snort was unwell for the first half, but the second half was awesome! How depressing to have to wait a year to do it again!

I, of course, did no sewing on The Great Stocking Project 2012. I did buy most of what I need before we left, except I forgot about stocking linings, and come hell or high water the kids will have stockings this year.

All of that being said, I’m sure there are more posts coming, but we are busy unpacking bikes, wet swimming stuff, muddy boots, and a pair of fleece pajamas that may or may not be covered in poop.

At football on Monday, as Snort and his two little friends ran around playing in the University sports centre, the other mums started discussing Christmas. One said she’d got each kid fourteen gifts. The other has been buying Cars for the last four months. When I got home, I got a piece of paper intended to write down what we had gotten the kids so far.

That’s when I realised that I’d better pull my fucking finger out of my ass.

I put another football mum on the Cars hunt, as a crappy little shop near her sells them new for much cheaper than I’ve seen anywhere else. I started bidding on shit on eBay. We actually had to move money over to be able to afford gifts. That is The Suck.

You know what else? My mom made my sister and I stockings when we were little. TMD and I actually made stockings for each other for an early Christmas together, with no foreknowledge of this (not the first or last time for the same gift!). Last year I was running around two days before Christmas, crying and sweating in various shops, desperate to find the kids some stockings. There were none left, except for disgusting Baby’s First Christmas ones. I sucked it up and bought them, as they didn’t read.

I was safe in the knowledge that we would make them stockings this year, months in advance. I even carefully planned out how they should look.

Here we are, a month before Christmas, and I don’t even have fabric yet.

We also don’t own a printer, microwave, or freezer. Soooo I’m thinking we should get the kids rocks, just in the spirit of the house shaped cave we live in!

Seriously, though, most of my wooden toy dreams have collapsed under the weight of diecast Cars characters and skeleton posters. I’m obsessed with trying to give them equivalent holiday experiences, which is tricky given that Snort really only wants Cars toys and Coconut has more varied interests. Are equivalent experiences measured by price, by quantity of things to unwrap? I’ve decided to try to roughly get them the same (smallish) number of things they will really love and appreciate. That way everyone wins, right?

If I’ve not said it before, there is something really seriously truly honestly fucked up with this country. Namely, they don’t understand how winter holiday gifts work. You walk into a store and there are special aisles designated ‘Christmas gifts’ and the like.

You know, within a store that is FULL of things to buy. Things that can be wrapped up, bow on top, and given out. Things that are a hell of a lot more useful than the shit that is marked as an acceptable gift.

These include scarf and glove sets, soap sets, chocolate sets. All are very obviously packaged and designed as holiday gifts, and I swear to the baby jesus, these appear to be Country B people’s idea of What To Get For The Holidays. Not that these things are inherently bad, you understand, but I find it so weird that people have to be told what to buy for gifts.

I don’t get it.

I don’t. Sure, you may need to buy for someone you don’t know well (why, though, I’m not sure). Get a nice candle. Or some book tokens. Surely that’s more thoughtful than a purple box with mini soaps? Or is it just me?

Join the revolution. Move to Country B and spend your time informing people that ANYTHING you can buy or make can be considered a gift….and chances are it will have a hell of a lot less wasted packaging, be a lot more tailored to the individual, and just not be so fucking stupid.

#Amirite?

Note: I am not specifically dissing any gifts I have received this year or any year. Just pointing out that the whole thought process behind this marketing scheme is just…..pointless.

Oh yeah. Hope you had a nice Yule or Christmas. And sorry to my Jewish peeps, I missed out on the Hanukkah hellos this year. And happy New Year!

I feel pretty much as happy as a person can be. We went shopping this morning, and it was my first time seeing them both in one buggy!

They are growing so fast; while on holiday last week, Coco was learning 3-4 new words per day. Freaky. They are both walking out to the car and back into the house.

And now?

We’re getting ready to decorate for Christmas. The CD we’re listening to has a little ditty that goes ‘I’m the happiest Christmas tree, ho ho ho, hee hee hee.’ Coconut JAMS out to this song.

So: this is what my life is, what my Christmas is now.

A little girl dancing around to music, bouncing up and down, stomping her feet, clapping, beaming with joy. A little boy carefully examining the strand of lights sitting on the couch waiting for the tree to be erected. Grabbing the top third of the tree (oh yes, it’s artificial!) and dragging it over to us.

A quite tired little girl who likes the lights but may be afraid of the tree. A little boy in awe of the tree and entranced by the lights.

Two years ago I was undergoing IVF. Today I am happy. Plain and simple happy.

Being a parent is better than I ever thought it would be, and I have to say, I had pretty high expectations.

Sure, everything is different, adjusted. We are not getting out any of our normal tree decorations. We’re not, in fact, decorating anything but the tree – with the special shatterproof baubles we bought this weekend, and some garlands. We may make some homemade ornaments, we may save that for future years.

Everything is different. Everything is better.

We let Snort pick the decorations. We held up a tube of all purple, and a tube of red and gold. His face lit up and he reached for the all purple. Coconut was shown both tubes twice and shook her head no both times.

Snort is a Christmas geek, it appears. What do you think of his choice?

He’s even helping us hang the baubles, while Coconut is twirling them around in her hands.

Oh MAN am I pumped for Christmas. I discovered this app to get for my phone (the gazillions of free apps for Android? THE BOMB.) that is all about Christmas radio. We’re talking like 30+ stations of free, live streaming Christmas music…..365 days a year.

I’m now searching for an Existere-compatible Christmas internet station. Delighted to say I’ve found a Christmas channel on lastfm, though.

And today TMD got my Christmas pressie. We were at a lovely garden centre (I am aging) and having a fabulous time (aging by the day). I walked in and there was a huge display of a popular brand of candles from Country A. I almost wet myself in joy. It’s one of these things that didn’t really exist when I first moved here, but every year their availability seems to creep up. The magic about this place was that they had an additional display of holiday candles. I spent like 25 minutes sniffing them all and making a geeky list of the ones I liked.

(Universe, I really want Red Apple Wreath. I knew it would smell good when I read about it online, and I was right. So why on the day I finally find it, it’s only available in a candle the size of my fucking thumb? Not cool, universe, not cool.)

Now, these candles are very, very fucking expensive here. Probably twice the price they are in Country A, so we never buy them. But then I smelled ‘Apple Cider’ and needed it.

I don’t give a shit about Christmas present wise, so we agreed this would be my gift. And I can burn that giant motherfucker from now until the holidays….or as near as I can stretch it.

I swear to god, my best holiday season over here involved a ‘Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough’ candle from this company. I don’t remember anything about what we did, except I remember burning that candle every day and sniffing it in ecstasy. I have spent the last four years stalking this flavour candle, since it has been discontinued and that breaks my heart.

I…uh.

Where was I?

So. I think this may become my ‘thing.’ Every year around this time I’ll have lovely TMD get me a candle from my pre-approved list.

Um.

Okay.

I think that’s all.

(Except to say I think Christmas has assumed a special meaning to me, since we conceived our beautiful babies on Dec 3 a few years ago, and according to our research their hearts started beating the day after Christmas. Best gifts ever, I tell you.)

My mother is very, very excited about us coming for Christmas. She is planning a big baby party for the whole family to meet the twins.

But – I’ve just found out that to enter into that country, the babies MUST have a passport from that country or they will be refused entry (because they have a claim to citizenship via myself). I am a wee bit stressed (ie breathless with worry!) about the short time scale we have to do everything.

Going to write the order of things I think needs to happen here to get it out of my head.

1. Register the birth of the babies. Get a short form birth certificate same day – but we have to register in the city where they are born, which is NOT the city we live in.

1.5 We also need to get TMD legal responsibilities – don’t know if this can happen when we register the births, or what. Also not sure where this needs to happen or on what form. I think I have the right form, but it only refers to ‘mother’ and ‘father’ so I find that confusing.

2. Get long form birth certificates for the babies. Am googling like mad but can’t actually figure out how that happens.

2.5 Get together all the paperwork to prove my citizenship (need to see that my passport is still fucking valid. I think it is), complete two application forms for citizenship, complete two applications for passports, figure out where the fuck to get baby photos that will be accepted by that country for the passports, somehow get proof that I have lived in Country A in the past – ie aquiring old school records. WTF. Pay an outrageous amount of money.

3. Go to the (Country A) consulate to register the births of citizens abroad, aquire citizenship for babies (and get same day certificates), apply for a certain identity number every citizen needs, and apply for passports.

Concurrently, we will also be applying for their passports of THIS country. I don’t actually know how to do that, unless it’s on the same form I just used, which would be handy. Unfortunately I think all the birth certificates will also be needed for this process. Therefore if anyone knows what country I live in and how the fuck to get long form certificates, perhaps you will be kind enough to tell me if I can also pay extra (money greases wheels?) to get duplicate copies at the same time we get the originals.

I am sure a few months is long enough for this to happen, but we will need the ‘foreign’ passports of the country where Mom lives in order to purchase plane tickets – I think. I hope all this doesn’t fuck up Christmas, and in a way I wish we didn’t have all this running back and forth to do. It’ll all have to be in the first month when TMD is at home.

Just what you want to do with two newborn babies – troop all over the fucking country and attend official interviews when they need to be eating every few hours. Courtesy of my boobs. Both at the same time. This is, of course, assuming that long form birth certificates don’t take weeks and weeks to arrive, which I think I have heard happens. Then TMD would have to take extra time to take us into The City to do all the consular stuff. (Let’s forget the nightmare that is public transport at this point, okay?)

Since moving to this country, I have wondered when all the legal shit and immigration nonsense will end. I guess in terms of myself it is finally sorted out as of today, but I won’t feel like it is REALLY okay until both babies have both passports – hopefully with oodles of time to spare before Christmas.

Question for parents of babies who also travel abroad (you know, like many baby mommas want to be jetting around the fucking world) – can you somehow get the children listed on your passport, therefore negating their need for a passport? Just a question.

——————

OH MY FUCKING GOD.

Just read the ‘additional requirements’ if you are applying for passports of Country A for children under 16. Both parents have to be present, or the absent parent MUST fill in some fucking form giving consent. Handily, this country does NOT recognize same sex partnerships, civil unions, or same sex marriage.

Christ McJesus. Going to keep reading.

Ok. Apparently if I have sole responsibility (which will not be the case, as TMD will be legally responsible at that point – though NOT recognised by this fucking country) I can apply. But you know what? I also need to provide my original birth certificate and all sorts of other shit.

This is about six thousand times more complicated than any other immigration hoops I have jumped through thus far. Fucking poopheads.

———————

OH MY FUCKING GOD PART TWO. Just thought of something. At some point in this process TMD’s name will no doubt be entered into the scary database and connected with my own, which could cause her problems entering the country Mom lives in.

——————-

Another interesting postscript:

If we had conceived four months later than we did, both of us would be able to be listed on the birth certificates as parents and TMD would have full legal rights and responsibilities from day one. I reckon this would complicate shit with Country A something chronic, but then we wouldn’t have to have all these forms after they are born, worrying about the wills now, and then going through the whole adoption process from next February.

In my limited experience of pregnancy, I’d have to say that each experience is different. In some ways, I think I’m getting off lucky with my symptoms. In others, I think – ‘Jesus CHRIST, I’m throwing up all the time!’

This is my twin pregnancy: I’ve been lying on the couch for three weeks now due to The Accident. This means I can take naps at will, focus on eating, and just generally rest emotionally and physically. I can’t compare what this pregnancy would be like if The Accident hadn’t happened. This is the experience as I’ve had it.

A big boil next to my nose (awesome), huge red patches of dry skin on other parts of my face (awesomer), and a wee little golden beard that TMD said the light glinted off last night (awesomest!). I’m throwing up 1-2 times a day, and having horrid dry heaving 1-2 times a day as well. A lot of bad nausea at all hours of the day. Sore boobs, bright nipples, veins so luminous the skin barrier appears to be disappearing. They are now on my abdomen as well. I also have The Dizzies now and then.

None of this particularly bothers me. The cosmetic stuff is merely that – surface level things that don’t really matter. The nausea is a bit more, well, gross. You know how sometimes when you throw up you can’t catch your breath between heaves? That’s me, every night after dinner. Last night it happened in the bathtub. I’m waiting excitedly for the time I manage to make TMD throw up in sympathy; her gag reflex has kicked in on a few occasions, and now I’m not allowed to talk about throwing up because it makes her nauseous. Hell YEAH.

I find myself getting increasingly obnoxious, particularly at bathtime (am I a toddler myself?) because of the accompanying pain from The Accident.

TMD: Boy, my muscles hurt.
Me: You get run over by a fucking motorcycle and THEN you can talk about your muscles hurting.

TMD: Boy, I’m tired.
Me: Tired? You get pregnant with twins and THEN you tell me how fucking tired you are.

Yeah. It’s probably a good thing I’m locked away in the house. I still can’t believe I’m still off work. The muscle pain continues to improve; nerve pain still there, but also not as intense. I can now reliably manage to take myself to the bathroom most of the time. I can also put weight on The Leg to help me stand up. I think the real problem now is that the muscle has contracted. I can’t straighten my leg and put my foot flat on the floor when I’m standing. I think I need to start some stretches or something. Three weeks of not using the muscle can’t be good, hey?

Haven’t heard anything from the hospital yet – I’m hoping an appointment letter for the 12 week scan will come through sometime soon. In the meantime, I’m going to watch Obama’s inauguration today, write Christmas thank yous, perhaps send Christmas cards to those who did not get cards (we ended up sending NONE because of the whole IVF/pregnancy thing). It’s all a bit awkward as only a very limited number of people know about the babies. This leaves us with no real excuse for ignoring everyone at Christmas. (Sunbonnet Sue, I think of how I have not sent you a card like every day. No lie.)

One good thing is that TMD has put this shit I call ‘Napalm’ on my nose-boil. It’s essentially cream for diaper rash, but it’s awesome for spots. It’s turned the giant boil into a tasty little scab. I’ve liked scabs since I was a kid. I find myself touching The Scab like three times an hour. Delicious!

What up, my dawgs. I’ve been spending plenty of time rubbing Bert’s Bees Wax marshmallow moisturiser into this godawful patch of dry skin under my lower lip. I think I referred to it a couple of weeks ago as a little red beard? It’s evolved into a SCALY little red beard.

N-n-n-n-n-n-nice.

As my driving test is in a few weeks, I decided I’d better see if I still know how to drive. Well, we’ve now lost two L-plates. Yes, they just fly off while I am driving. Going to have to pick up some more today. This may or may not be a sign from the universe.

I also need to think of affordable but nice Christmas gifts for Joy and Green. Was too sick to go shopping before the holidays. I was planning on getting ornaments, but Joy beat me to it. I don’t know what to get them. Don’t even have the slightest hint of an idea. If Joy was not allergic to dairy and a lot of other shit, we might have been edging into homemade cookie territory. Hell, we might anyway.

What are small gifts that people like? But sort of personalised ones?

In other news, we went over to Bil and Sil’s last night. My little niece is now five months and a bit years old. As she was playing with various toys and giggling, I just kept thinking, ‘We’re going to have one of those?!?’

My new greatest fear is an etopic pregnancy. I swear to god, when will I relax? Ha. I suspect much relaxation will occur after the scan. T minus ten days.